


capture, release

by LiquifyingOcelot



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anal Sex, Beating, Blood, Bruises, Crying, Erotic Electrostimulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Grinding, M/M, Shame, Torture, Unconscious Sex, Urination, Violence, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 18:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2632025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiquifyingOcelot/pseuds/LiquifyingOcelot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is a war game and everyone is a prisoner of war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	capture, release

Revolver Ocelot had refused to deny Big Boss anything- if Big Boss wanted something done, it was done, if he wanted someone dead, they were dead. From the most minor, to the most extravagant of things, if Big Boss asked for it, Ocelot delivered. Always. 

He wasn't just a boy with a crush. That would trivialize what he was- and what he'd become, and what Big Boss had come to mean to him. His Outer Heaven was with Big Boss himself- and once he'd experienced that- there was no other way to live other than under his beck and call. 

Outer Heaven was the way he smelled, and how his hair felt, and what he looked like when he was happy. That was it. Whether Big Boss himself knew it or not, his very presence was enough to ease every pain and anxiety away- everything became so small in comparison to this- intense joy he felt. He did so want to see him happy. 

Revolver Ocelot was not stupid, however. He was lucidly aware of his obsession, of his dreams, of the fact that the majority of his life was, and would be in service to this man. He knew he was chasing something very foolish and fleeting, but that had been his decision, and his alone, and his life became about managing it without falling flat on his face because of it. 

He did love this man. But how and why- that was a secret even Big Boss himself wasn't totally aware of. Big Boss knew physical love. He knew dependance. He knew obsession. He almost envied how well Ocelot handled his own. He remembered when he'd counted the months, the days, the hours that the Boss had been away from him and how he knew Ocelot was doing the same, but he never had to say it. Just a 'Welcome back!' and a small smile as DD circled his feet was enough to tell him so. 

Physical love. It was physical, all right- but the 'love' was certainly missing. There was once a time when John would have gladly held someone- kissed them- caressed them. Maybe that part of him had been lost to another person- Eva, or Kaz- left like a token on their nightstands. 

Suffice it to say, Big Boss no longer enjoyed sex. It was not enough. 

He didn't enjoy drugs, alcohol, beautiful people throwing themselves at him, or bodies stripped naked in poses in magazines. 

He enjoyed war. 

He enjoyed the smell of gunpowder, the sense of power he now held in his hands, the guns, the chaos, all wicked things- 

he penetrated to dominate, grabbed to control, to choke, caressed only to cut, posed bodies onto torture devices, and subjected them to such pain that even Ocelot sometimes had to bite his tongue and force himself to stop from saying "John, that's enough." 

But when Ocelot said something, 

Big Boss did, in fact, listen. 

So when Ocelot had yelled "Stop!" during one of their interludes, wherein Big Boss stood shirtless, scarred, and Ocelot hung from chains bolted to the wall- he did, in fact, stop what he was doing. 

Ocelot panted at him, his eyes feral and yet so very distant. Hurt. 

Big Boss no longer recognized hurt, because everything hurt. So much. All the time. He watched Ocelot breathe, his bruised ribcage expanding and contracting drastically with each struggle for air. He bled, parts of him had the imprints of prosthetic fingers starting to swell and bruise as well. He was sweating so badly his growing hair was sticking to his forehead and his neck. 

Big Boss didn't know what to say. 'What's wrong?' sounded stupid. He knew that, but it came out of his mouth, anyway. 

"You're going to bludgeon me to death if you keep going." Ocelot responded, panting hard. He coughed, turning his face to do so. 

Big Boss looked into his face, and felt something- something there. He was angry- he felt unbearably sad at the same time- it was just a pain there. A pain that hurt everything he'd ever cared about. He saw his prosthetic hand reach for Ocelot's face, and watched him flinch. He so wished he wouldn't do that. Why was he doing this- like this- to him? 

"Ocelot-" 

"Change techniques." Ocelot told him, as if he'd told him to do any other mundane thing in the world. "Try something else. I won't die on you. But if you're interrogating someone, beating them is-" 

Ocelot stopped, coughed dryly, and shook his head. "-beating them is not always the best approach. If you hit them in the head, especially- you could lose- everything you wanted to get in the first place. " 

Big Boss felt a surge of something like madness. This wasn't a prisoner. This was Ocelot. Directing his own torture. Still, he nodded- this wasn't supposed to have been a lesson. Ocelot was supposed to have started crying and screaming ages ago, anyway. But he never did. In a way, he'd begun to blame Ocelot for these feelings- for indulging him so far, and so much, spoiling him. 

"Show me the features of that hand instead, hm?" Ocelot suggested. 

He wasn't supposed to be so calm. 

Big Boss grabbed him, and almost instinctively activated one of the newest electrical enhancements - sending a quick electrical charge through his body that made him seize up and hit the wall behind him. He unmistakably heard Ocelot moan his name. 

"Oh fuck, John." 

Of course he'd like this. Big Boss smirked, and flexed his fingers. 

"I'm getting nostalgic." Big Boss chuckled, dryly. 

Soon, John's hand was around his neck, so cold, but Ocelot was shuddering from more than just the cold- breathing hard. Big Boss just looked at him for a moment, watching him writhe without even being stimulated. Just laying there, his body somewhere between pushing himself against his hand and pulling away, his eyes shut tight. 

"I think I've finally pieced some things together about you, Ocelot." he noted, giving him another very quick zap that made his skin feel like it was on fire, but then put out immediately. He sighed when it was over, only to clench up anticipating another. 

"The reason you like electricity is because that's what Volgin used- to torture me- in front of you, am I right?" 

Ocelot felt his heart drop into his stomach. He cautiously opened his eyes, one at a time. 

"Impressionable youth. Thought it was obvious." Ocelot explained, succinctly. He felt his heart race as Big Boss dragged his hand- that wasn't his hand- down his stomach. 

"I can't blame you, Ocelot. Trying it for myself, it's actually kind of thrilling." Big Boss was smiling at him and it was not the smile he wanted to see. Even though he enjoyed it- even though he'd practically climax when Big Boss was whipping him, beating him, choking him- he'd certainly do so now and the prospect was embarrassing. 

"Actually, I've been wanting to try it for a long time. One part in particular." 

Ocelot shivered, Big Boss' hand pressing into his gut- his breath uneven. Ocelot suddenly did not want this to happen, he regretted it. He regretted everything that was leading up to this awful, sickening tension and yet, it was John- he couldn't hate it. Even as that beautiful, clear gaze met his own, that devil's smile on his lips- satisfied only by the screams of war- he couldn't help but give in. Giving Big Boss what he wanted was his life, and then the shock came to his stomach and he hit the wall again, with each muscle seizing up inside him. He didn't scream the way most men did. No, he wailed, practically sobbed with pleasure. It felt so good, the electricity fading away from him like a good orgasm. 

"Piss yourself for me." 

Another shock welled up inside, and burst, following the first one. He feared it would last too long but at the same time, it couldn't last long enough. He was shivering in the grips of it all, and continued to do so after John pulled back. 

"Not gonna work there, hm? Should I try somewhere else?" 

"-lower…" Ocelot instructed, muscles still contracting, twitching, everywhere- it just felt so hot inside and so good and complete, his entire body taken by one, consuming force. 

Big Boss grabbed his cock and testicles through his pants, to which Ocelot began to protest loudly- the only time he'd ever denied that sort of contact from Big Boss in his life. He almost felt guilty doing so. 

"Too low." he said. "-ruin it." 

Finally, Big Boss pressed his hand roughly where Ocelot's bladder would be- and Ocelot heaved a sigh, breathing through the remaining tremors. 

"Good." he nodded. 

Big Boss pushed, and let the shock seize him again- holding it there, against him. He could practically feel Ocelot's muscles fluttering inside him, he could see his eyes rolling back- his body completely devoid of control. It took more than one try-two, three- but he barely let Ocelot recover between them- perhaps a rookie mistake, but it suited his purposes. 

Ocelot's entire self shuddered with a seizure, his eyes snapping shut, his groan a pleasured, painful noise that vibrated through him. At first, Big Boss didn't even realize it, but at some point, Ocelot's body relaxed as he pulled away his hand and he just kept moaning without restraint, piss running freely down his pant leg.

He'd certainly been full beforehand- having soaked through the crotch of his pants to the point where it was saturated and dripping, and still having warm, steady stains down each leg, the muscles in him still twitching helplessly, keeping him in thrall. 

Big Boss immediately took him down from his restraints, and he fell to the floor, weeping beneath him, dripping piss, trying so hard to keep his seizure-wracked body still, but failing, his hands and legs giving out on him until he was just lying there- curled and twitching, his crotch drenched with piss, his hair gracing a puddle of his own urine. He just sobbed. It wasn't like regular crying- it wasn't the cry of someone who'd been hurt- just tears of pleasured humiliation. He didn't want to like it, but he liked it, and then he'd gone and pissed himself in front of his idol, and he was twitching violently in his own urine and crying real, salt tears. 

Big Boss was staring down at him, making him feel all the more humiliated. He hadn't thought it would feel like this. 

"I think I see the appeal now. Thank you, Adamska." 

Big Boss was more cruel than even Ocelot felt he could be. He could barely see anything above his boots without being wracked with another violent shiver. Hot. He was so hot and wet and his cock was throbbing in his pants- the only thing he could feel other than wet, the electricity making every part of his body jump to attention. Yes yes yes.

He looked up, just for a moment, just in time to see Big Boss getting his cock out, holding its length in his hand. Just in time to feel his own, throbbing impossibly in his wet, piss-soaked pants. 

He didn't even care when Big Boss started to piss on him as well, groaning as the seizures died down- the feeling of Big Boss soaking him- his body, his face, what was left of his clothing- none of it mattered. He couldn't even feel any more humiliated, or undone. Big Boss, on the other hand, loved every second of it- murmuring Ocelot's name under his breath and praising him. 

Ocelot was unresponsive. Laying there. And yet not entirely gone because when Big Boss got down on his knees to bring them closer together, he murmured a few words- before Big Boss' excited grasp had him again. The flesh one, this time, was the one grabbing at the crotch of his pants. Ocelot pushed his hips forward. Big Boss chuckled at him. 

"You look _filthy_." 

Ocelot said nothing. He just moaned as John rubbed him through the wet cloth. He moaned and pressed himself against the hand that pleasured him- he didn't have any use for pretense anymore. 

"Do you want me to make you cum, too?" 

Ocelot whined his hardest, pushing his hips up against him again, moaning something incomprehensible. 

"Oh, but that's too easy, isn't it? I think I'll- change my approach, what do you say?" 

Ocelot just whimpered as he took the hand away. 

"Nonono, _pleaseee_..." 

"You'd make a pathetic prisoner of war, you know that, Ocelot? First you're aroused by the torture, and then you act like this when I make you piss yourself and use you like a urinal. You wouldn't last a day. You'd be begging all those soldiers to piss on you and fuck you- because that's what you like, isn't it?" 

" _F-fuck meee…Boss…_ " 

He set the other hand down, the prosthetic limb hard between his legs. He brought his wet, warm fingers to Ocelot's lips, and worked two of them into his mouth, watching him wince at the taste. 

"That's all you, soldier." he chuckled. "I shouldn't be rewarding you for this- but you've been good enough, and since this was all your suggestion- you can hump my hand until you cum if you want." 

Ocelot nodded, and thanked him, over and over again, as he brought his hips up, his Boss staring at him as he just debased himself even further. He cried, he thanked Big Boss for touching him. He agreed with every filthy thing Boss had ever said about him. He begged to be fucked, begged to be filth, begged to be pissed on more, and begged, and begged, and begged. I love it, I love it, I love it. 

It didn't matter anymore- he needed to cum, and Boss' fingers felt so good and remembering the release of his own piss- the sensation of Big Boss soaking him, marking him, claiming his territory after conquering it- 

he came in no time at all, moaning John's name so hard he nearly screamed if his throat hadn't gone so dry and so sore. 

Big Boss looked at him like he was garbage. He moved his hand, making Ocelot so much more aware of the piss, and now the cum, soaking his pants. He whimpered, humiliated, but relieved. Big Boss slapped his cheek, and he barely felt it. 

"Are you happy with my technique now, Ocelot? Now that you've pissed and came all over yourself?" 

Ocelot nodded, dumbly, before blacking out, his eyes closing blissfully. 

Big Boss wasn't, however, about to let something like that stop him from obtaining his own release. It was thrilling, even more so now that Ocelot was no longer moving- just breathing shallow breaths and trembling periodically. He caressed the side of his face with the fingers that still allowed him to feel the damp, tear-stained cheeks. 

Big Boss didn't care for sex. But the sight beneath him was anything but sexual. A beaten body, lifeless safe for the small breaths and twitches of his fingers- no- this was something he'd completely, utterly conquered, mind, body, and soul. He tugged the wet clothes from Ocelot's body. 

He deserved the spoils of his conquest. 

Ocelot was still as he admired his handiwork- the bruised skin, the subtle electrical burns, the piss beading into puddles beneath him. He leaned in, tasting Ocelot's skin by tracing his tongue over the bone of his hip- it was heavenly. Salty, wet, animalistic. He smiled to himself as he spread those limp legs far apart. Ocelot was gone. Completely unconscious. It enhanced the feeling- that visceral, battlefield urgency- the brutality- the demon. 

He took no time at all, thrusting himself inside of the still limp body, groaning powerfully as he forced himself in. 

"Tight." he moaned, unable to fit his entire length in on the first try- with some pushing, he finally got Ocelot to take him to the hilt. 

He let his forehead rest on Ocelot's shoulder as he started to move- very aware of the fluid puddled beneath him. Such a beast- squirming in his own urine. It was hardly pleasurable- Ocelot's body refused to give at certain points, he couldn't move on his own and had to be controlled exclusively by Big Boss- who was struggling on a frustrating plateau between arousal and orgasm, and having to direct Ocelot by himself was only making the issue much more difficult. He didn't care- he was going to have that orgasm. 

"Give it to me, Ocelot." he murmured, biting him as if he were still conscious. "I know you can still make me cum. _Fuck._ " 

He thrust inside as hard and as deep as Ocelot's body would let him. He groaned, fucking him, biting him, missing his sounds but still remembering his cries from earlier- the gasp when he first started to release his bladder- the cries of shame and pleasure- unlike anything he'd ever heard in his life. He came with a growl inside Ocelot's body, and pulled out from him. He'd scraped the inside of Ocelot's ass- there was blood on his cock and remnants of cum still spilling from the thick tip, beading and and dripping down on Ocelot's body and the floor beneath. 

It hadn't been his most satisfying orgasm. He didn't have satisfying orgasms anymore- just a hunger, an emptiness left that needed to be filled by showers of blood and screaming and freshly open wounds. 

But seeing Ocelot beneath him, motionless, covered in piss, cum, bruises and burns- watching his body let the cum and blood trickle from inside him- it sated that hunger for a while. 

He checked Ocelot's pulse. 

Still there. 

He panted, wrapping his arms around Ocelot's body, and held him, threading fingers through his wet hair.

**Author's Note:**

> bludgeon me to death @ http://l-iquidocelot.tumblr.com/


End file.
